


pas de deux

by seokjynerso



Series: danse macabre [1]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Dance Metaphors, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Mild Gore, Non-Graphic Violence, Possessive Behavior, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, inspired by a true story, tord has mild ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seokjynerso/pseuds/seokjynerso
Summary: ❝ even though it’s a vain dream, just stay like this a little longer. ❞oh, tord, you can't leave the dance before the music ends.a̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶h̶i̶p̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶d̶a̶n̶c̶e̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶w̶o̶.̶





	pas de deux

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this [amazing au.](http://aminoapps.com/p/kipycmj)

  _i. entrée_

Tord's body recorded everything it'd endured by day and played them all into his art by night. He moulded pain into perfection with every calculated stroke of his hand. He knew well that in order to gain attention, he had to earn it. Winning prizes and trophies from art competitions, both online and offline, was the only way to get a taste of affection from his parents.

Tord didn't achieve all his accolades; he performed them. In fact, his whole life was a performance. At home, he tip-toed weightlessly over eggshells with the grace of a dancer, plastering a grin over his face, pretending that his parents would be normal for once, but a single misstep would be greeted by the crashing applause of broken glass, broken promises and broken hearts.

And all people would see was pretty art.

One day, Tord learned that art doesn't have to come from suffering. Beautiful things can also be created out of love. Passion glowed through the short animated films Eddcentric had uploaded to his YouTube channel and shared on social media. They were funny, they were warm一they caught Tord's mind on fire. Though hesitating at first, he braved himself to send a private message to Edd, their creator, thanking him for being his inspiration.

In response, Edd included a character from Tord's paintings in one of his films as an Easter egg.

_(this is how a grand pas de deux is performed:)_

Their works of art were worlds apart. Edd's animations were fluid, dynamic, alive. Tord's drawings were stiff, static, dead. But they enjoyed each others' company, bonding over similar interests, hopes and dreams. They talked about the problems they faced, both as an artist and in real life. They traded terrible puns and off-colour jokes.

Tord to Edd was like a vessel to water. When Tord trusted his best friend enough to let all the walls of his heart crumble, Edd's heart filled in the void of Tord's true self, taking its shape with all its imperfections, accepting them without judging. After hiding behind a careful mask for years, Tord was finally free to be himself around Edd.

It felt like breathing in Eden's first sunrise.

_(a brief prelude marks the beginning of a dance suit.)_

Tord was tired of putting an act. He was tired of making his every move en pointe, perpetuating the illusion that he could float over his parents' anger. He was tired of the pain in his bones and the pressure to become inhumanly immaculate. He wanted to leave, but after being controlled throughout his life, he had no skills to survive on his own.

So, when Edd began livestreaming his winter vacation in Norway, Tord seized the opportunity. He'd arranged for a meeting at a public place on the last day of Edd's trip. Edd promised to come wearing his trademark green hoodie and khaki trousers with a scarf around his neck and Tord waited for him in his black leather trench coat, carrying only a bag of important documents, art supplies and a small sum of money.

_(both dancers appear on stage, acknowledging each other and their respective roles.)_

On their way to the airport, Edd told Tord that he would be staying in Edd's home, far away from everyone he knew, so he could focus on his dream to become a comic artist while Edd worked to support the two of them. It was the kindest thing Tord had ever heard. He'd trained himself to expect cruelty from others because it was all he'd ever known. Once presented with genuine kindness, he didn't know how to react.

The unfamiliarity of kindness scared him.

There, at the backseat of a taxi, Tord broke down crying into Edd's hoodie while Edd stroked his head to calm him down.

_ii. adagio_

Living with Edd meant there was always something exciting to look forward to. Every weekend, The two would play multiplayer video games all night or enjoy a campy horror B-movie. This weekly ritual was started every Friday night with Tord's declaration of an indoor Nerf war. The loser, usually Edd, had to cook dinner and wash the dishes. On weekdays, Tord would help Edd sketch character designs and record sound effects for his animations.

_(the second part, the adagio, is a graceful, elaborate duet.)_

Tord was glad that he had Edd to manage his move to Britain. They'd stayed up filling up tons of documents in technical English the Norwegian didn't quite understand. Using Edd's connections in the local art scene, Tord had landed a job in illustrating ten volumes of a semi-famous comic series. It gave him the freedom to work from home.

But even in their absence, his controlling parents had somehow crippled him. Edd didn't allow him to use any phones because his parents might be tracking him down. He never had a bank account, so Edd was the one collecting and giving him his paycheck. He also didn't have a driver's license, so, without Edd, he couldn't go anywhere.

_(the ballerina will perform slow, elegant movements while trusting her partner, the danseur, to support her.)_

Their lives weren't always perfect. There was a black smidge in their friendship that they couldn't erase.

Once, their neighbours, Pau and Pat, had invited Tord for an afternoon tea. Like Tord, they were also immigrants, so they asked him how was his stay in England so far. They asked him what Norway was like. They talked about his latest illustration project. This caused Tord to notice a certain hollowness in his heart, a hollowness he'd managed to fill by chatting the evening away.

_(with the ballerina in his hands, the danseur will strive to maintain an effortless display of strength.)_

When the sun had gone down, Tord returned home, only to see Edd standing a few steps away from the door, staring down at him.

He was an hour too late.

_(among the ways a danseur can support a ballerina is by lifting her一)_

Edd immediately grabbed Tord by the collar. "Where did you go?" he asked, his voice low but uncannily calm. When Tord's eyes met Edd's unyielding ones, a wave of nausea washed over him. He was back in his old home, cowering on the floor as the shadow of his father loomed over him.

"Oh," Tord spoke with a more casual tone to remind himself that he was in a safer place and only talking to his best friend. "I just went out for something and一"

_(holding and steadying her during pirouettes一)_

Sharp fingernails dug into Tord's shoulders as Edd gripped them tight. "Haven't I told you to tell me first before you go out?" Edd asked again, this time shaking Tord roughly as if wanting to wake him up and make him realise the severity of his actions.

"Edd, calm down," Tord found himself being in the same position as years ago, trying to placate an older man's anger. "I was just一"

_(and offering her a steady arm or hand.)_

An open palm flew towards Tord's face, snapping his head back with the force of the blow. Even though Edd only striked with an empty hand, it felt like being hit with a closed fist.

Tord knew well how untethered rage would eventually take on a tangible form, leaving its mark all over his body. He just didn't expect it to come from Edd, of all people.

_(she won't be able to perform her breathtaking balancing acts without his assistance.)_

"You're not supposed to leave this house without my permission, or else I'll bubble up." Edd said, popping open a can of cola. The drink fizzled in his hand; the long, stern hush of a mother silencing her child.

Tord couldn't bring himself to laugh at the joke.

"I was worried about you, you know?" Edd said between sips. "What if something bad happened to you and I wasn't there?"

Tord looked down, mentally tracing the checkered patterns on the living room carpet. "I'm sorry," he cupped the searing red streaks on the right side of his face. "It won't happen again. I promise."

It was all his fault. He was the one who allowed himself to get carried away. If only he remembered that Edd was the only exception to the no-phone rule一

Edd was the only person Tord could trust, but he couldn't even make Edd trust him.

_iii. variation(s)_

Today was Tord's birthday. Waltz of the Flowers, a piece from Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker ballet, filled the merry night air. Under its spell, Edd became the wind gently moving the flowers, leading with a forward step as he rested his hand on Tord's hip. Tord followed with a mirroring step backwards, his arm clinging onto Edd's shoulder.

The harp cadenza in the beginning reminded Tord of falling petals and fairytales, lulling him into a false sense of peace. The world faded into the background like how the slapping incident disappeared into folds of memory. Strings and woodwinds opened the waltz. The wind and the flowers danced side by side, feet gilding into a circle under the spring sun.

But the intrusion of a heavy melody from cellos and violas startled Tord from his trance. He admitted that tension was building upon them, with Edd trying to subdue the violence in him and Tord hoping for the incident not to reoccur.

The end was approaching. The melody was getting quicker and quicker. Tord was afraid they would spin out of control, but Edd quickly raised an arm and twirled Tord under it and the two of them laughed.

_(but by the time the adagio ends, the ballerina and the danseur would separate.)_

"Edd, I know what I'm going to do this year!" Tord announced, suddenly sitting straight with gleaming silvers in his eyes. "I'm going to study art in the big city!"

Edd dropped the magazine he was reading. "What?"

"I'm 23. It's time for me to learn proper skills and improve myself as an artist," Tord explained. "Don't worry! I'm old enough now, and I promise that we'll always keep in touch."

Edd shook his head. "But you can do it here, from home. There are art courses you can take online. You don't have to go to the big city to improve your art."

"I know that, but I want to gain more experiences," Tord leaned closer towards his friend. "You can't create insightful stories without them. One day, I'll publish a comic of my own."

"I can give you more experience. I can help you improve. You don't need other people. You have me," Edd raised his voice as he stood up from the couch. "I'm your friend, aren't I? I'm always at your back."

"Edward," Tord called Edd by his full name, showing him how serious he was about his decision. "One day, we'll have to move on with our lives. You have your path and I have my own. You can't keep me by your side forever."

_(each of them takes the centre stage to perform a variation, a solo dance.)_

"No!"

Edd didn't spare a second to think when he let out his rage and slammed his clenched fist into Tord's face. The impact knocked Tord off his seat, leaving him sprawling on the floor.

"You're not leaving me. Not after everything I did for you." Edd punctuated the last sentence by giving Tord a swift kick to the abdomen.

Tord's sight exploded into star-painted skies. He grasped at the carpet as he coughed for air, but Edd was too quick for him. "You need me."一he received another kick in the same place一"You will always need me."一then another.

Before he knew it, he was regressing into his old self, whimpering and begging in his mother tongue.

"You want forever, huh? I'll give you forever."

Tord thought that he could change his life, but there he was, right back at where he started, dragged into a locked room and curling into himself.

_(variations are meant for the dancers to show their individual skills.)_

"Please don't hurt me."

Edd's fingers were long but slender, strong but gentle. Tord had learned to fear them, but he secretly enjoyed how they felt like a dance on his skin一a grand jeté from his eyes to his mouth after drying his tears, a short pas de valse over his lips to wipe the trail of blood and saliva away.

"The grass isn't always greener. Not greener than my hoodie, of course." Tord kept himself completely still as Edd lifted his shirt up, watching violets bloom over lineaments of muscles. "An ice person like me is hard to find," Edd chuckled, jingling a packet of ice before pressing it on the bruises on Tord's stomach. He then kept it in place with an elastic wrap around the waist.

Tord hated how he was always starving for any act of kindness directed towards him. But he loved how Edd was willing to piece him back together after breaking him. His parents never cared about how much they'd damaged him.

"You're like a brother to me, Tord," Edd pulled Tord into his arms, smoothing his unruly hair and rocking him side to side. "Tell me, what kind of older brother would leave their little brother alone in this terrible world? I care about you, I really do."

Edd wasn't like his parents. Edd was different. Edd was kinder, more considerate. It was Tord who created a monster out of someone so loving. Tord, that ungrateful son of a gun, that opportunist, that traitor.

He deserved all the pain he felt in every breath.

Still, everytime Edd asked Tord if he was willing to forget his plans, Tord would deny him the satisfaction of getting an answer.

_iv. coda_

Soon, Edd stopped asking.

_(the coda is the conclusion of a grand pas de deux.)_

Tord woke up to Edd trying to tie his hands behind his back with the elastic band he recognised. "You shouldn't be so stubborn. But well, we can't help it, right?" Edd said, biting his lip as Tord struggled to free from his bonds, "I can't believe you're still afraid of me even though I've explained to you everything."

Tord wanted to talk back, but a cold sting shooting down his arm stole his ability to speak coherently. Edd had injected something into his veins. Morphine, perhaps?

"You seem to need a smaller dose than Matt did," Edd muttered. He coiled a thick strap around Tord's right leg, slipping a piece of wood next to his femoral artery. He clamped his left hand over the kneecap and reached for something small and glittering一a newly-sharpened fruit knife.

"What are you trying to do?" Tord asked, but his words couldn't pierce through the murky fog separating him and Edd.

In two smooth slices, Edd managed to slice away skin, nerves, and fat from flesh, creating twin u-shaped flaps on Tord's leg, seven inches away from his ankle. He pulled them back to reveal the pale white bone underneath. Some pain seeped through the fog, but it wasn't unbearable enough to make Tord comprehend what was happening to him.

Edd tugged on the makeshift tourniquet and tossed his fruit knife away for his next toy of choice: a saw. He lowered his left hand from the kneecap to the top of the exposed bone and began sawing into it. The moment Tord heard the grating sound of metal on something hollow, he felt his insides drop.

_No, Edd, please don't do this._

The severed foot landed on the floor with a sickening thud. Edd held a thread between his teeth and started his work to stop the bleeding. He tied off the open blood vessels and sewed the flaps together, creating a neat-looking stump where Tord's right foot used to be.

From this day on, Tord would have no more excuses to leave him.

_Please stop._

Tord was both angry and glad that the fog had shielded him from whatever gruesome view was waiting for him on the other side. All he could make out was the blurry form of Edd kneeling beside him, flashing him an assuring smile.

Edd had a soft, pleasant smile. Tord wanted to lose himself in it一drown it it, die in it.

"Don't be angry. I promise that I'll make you feel better."

_(a friendship is a dance for two.)_


End file.
